


Nothing Special

by Higgystar



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Kink Meme, daemon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My own prompt from the kink meme: Daryl isn't human at all, he's Merle's daemon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Special

Merle never really understood what the big deal was. Sure his daemon was male but so what? It didn’t make no difference to who he was, and though everyone kept saying he was meant to be special or some shit, as far as he could tell there weren’t nothing different between him and all the other kids his age. His daemon just happened to be a boy like him was all and he hated when people kept on asking him about it. His mom didn’t care so much but then again as the years when on she didn’t much care about much anymore, except for her wine and smokes, her snake daemon Beau just hanging limply around her neck most days.

His dad really didn’t like it so much but Merle didn’t know what exactly he wanted him to do about it. Weren’t like Daryl could change his sex as easy as he could change his shape, his daemon was just a boy and they all just needed to stop making such a big deal about it all. It weren’t like he knew no different anyhow and Daryl didn’t care that every other daemon he met was the opposite sex to their human.

He’s eight when he stops questioning it and begins yelling at people to leave them the hell alone when they wanna see his daemon. Daryl usually shifts into something with claws and sharp teeth, hissing at them all and chasing away the other daemons to leave him alone. “Just don’t get it Merle.” Daryl mutters, yawning and kneading at his chest as they curl into bed, nuzzling closer as a ginger cat. Shrugging a little he pets at him, ruffling his fur a little behind the ears like Daryl likes and listening to him purr a little. “Why’d they think we’re so special anyways? It’s like they’re waiting for us to do magic or some shit.”

“I know, it ain’t fair. Ain’t like we asked for this, ‘s just the way we are.” He sighs, sick of the looks, sick of his mom not caring about anything and sick of the way his dad acted after the drinks. “Just ignore it from now own, fuck ‘em all.”

Daryl huffs in agreement, settling down and closing his eyes as they hunker down to sleep away the anger.

Life goes on that way for a while and as the years go on his mom gets quieter, Beau gets paler in colour and he worries that they ain’t got enough money to fix whatever is wrong with her. His father is a different matter both he and his hyena daemon Zima do not get quieter, they get louder and drunker and meaner as they get older. The hits hurt like a bitch but he learns to take his licks like he should, walking around with his bruises on show and uncaring if people stare even more than they had when it was just Daryl to look at.

He gets used to the shit at home and when the belt comes out he takes the whipping, flinching through the pain, cleaning up the blood and hating when it scars. It sucks to spend every day on edge, unaware what exactly sets his dad off, and not knowing how to stop it. But he can handle it, he can take it like a man for as long as it takes and though it burns, he copes as best he can.

It’s after he turns twelve, when his mom burns up in a house fire and leaves him with dad when things really start to hit the fan. Daryl ain’t settled yet and each day he still shifts is another day his dad finds a reason to hit him. It ain’t his fault Daryl is late settling, his daemon keeps changing each day, shifting between forms and slinking away from Zima more and more. Merle tries his best not to pressure Daryl, he knows sometimes daemons settled too fast but right now he was late and it was annoying his dad something chronic. It weren’t that he minded, but each new scar added to the collection made him just wish Daryl could make his mind up.

It’s the day that Daryl is a mouse, wild and small, cleaning himself on Merle’s lap that things get real bad. They share scars between them and when Merle pushes Daryl’s fur or feathers the wrong way he can see matching marks on his daemon’s skin. He hates every single one of them, because at least they were on his back and hidden, but on Daryl he couldn’t hide them as easily. His dad has been drinking all day and when Daryl shifts into a wild rabbit it seems to push all his dad’s buttons.

Zima darts forward, her strong jaws snapping instantly with a growl and Daryl darts off Merle’s lap with a squeak, squealing when the hyena begins to chase him. Sharp teeth snap closed on Daryl’s body, digging into his fur, grinding against him and all Merle can feel is the cold tension of pain across his chest as his father’s daemon slowly crushes his own. “Stop it! You’re hurting us!” He yells across the room to his father over Daryl’s yells of pain and screams.

It doesn’t work and he can feel the pain across his back when Zima’s teeth cut through skin, tearing and yanking at Daryl’s fur in great tufts until his daemon is shifting frantically between forms to try and get free. Fur comes out, there’s feathers and there’s the sharp cut of fangs on scales between his shifts until Daryl is in Merle’s arms as a cat again, sobbing and whining into Merle’s chest.

His dad snorts out a sneer, taking a swig of his drink as Zima lopes back over, snickering to herself before laying at his feet, uncaring and licking at the blood smeared on her muzzle. Merle doesn’t stick around to yell anymore, instead he runs out to the woods with Daryl, carrying on through the trails until they’re as far away as they can get without him collapsing. Daryl is still bleeding from his back and sides, hiccupping on sobs and clinging onto Merle as tightly as he clings to his daemon.

They don’t need to speak to share how upset they are and Merle can feel Daryl’s upset as he trembles against him. He knows it’s because of the shifts, his father wants them settled and they’re not ready yet but each day he prays a little that Daryl will find out what he’s meant to be. “I’m sorry Merle.” Daryl mewls, unwilling to move away an inch as they curl beneath a tree together, each of them going through the pain and feeling new scars form on both of them. “I’m trying, I really am.”

“I know.” And he does know, he can feel it everyday when Daryl shifts forms and sneers at the way it feels on his body. “It ain’t our fault, he’s just an asshole.” Merle knows it’s true and so does Daryl, he hates their father and he hates the way he makes them feel about themselves. “It makes him madder when you’re prey animals though, try not to be those around him?”

Daryl shivers against him, climbing up Merle’s chest to his shoulders and curling his tail about his neck. “Not like I can help it Merle. If we feel like that I can’t exactly stop it.”

“Then I’ll stop feeling like that around him, maybe that’ll work?” He suggests, stroking Daryl’s tail through his fingers and feeling hollow that there is no solution to this problem. Their own father hates them because of who they are, something neither of them have any control over and cannot fix in a moment. Can’t he see that they’re trying? It wasn’t like they could decide when they settled.

“I hope so.” Daryl whispers, curled about his neck, burying himself beside Merle’s ears and letting him hear his quickly beating heart. He reaches up to pet him behind the ears, scratching there lightly in the way he knows Daryl likes.

The next year is the longest year of Merle’s life and he spends as much of it as he can away from his father and Zima as he can. Daryl tries his best not to shift so much, keeping himself down to only a few different forms and keeping to one at a time in public. They’d woken up with Daryl as a mountain lion today, large and vicious, claws extended as he rakes through Merle’s pile of clothing for the day. “What are you doing?” He asks from the bed, half awake and wondering exactly why his daemon had taken such an interest in clothing.

Daryl looks up from the clothing smiling with his fangs sharp in the morning light, padding over to rub his head against Merle’s lightly in greeting. “Just looking is all.” He shrugs, feline shoulders rippling beneath his fur as he heads back over to the clothes, grabbing at them with his jaws and raking through them with his paws. “I think clothes are neat.”

Rolling his eyes Merle heaves himself out of bed, walking over besides Daryl to take a shirt from Daryl’s mouth. “But you don’t need ‘em. You’re a daemon, you’re supposed to be naked.” He reminds him, finding something that doesn’t stink so bad and yanking it on for the moment. Daryl paws at him a little, really he’s far too big for their tiny bedroom but Merle isn’t complaining when he’s shifted into something so dangerous.

“Yeah but what if I ain’t an animal?” His daemon grins, tail swishing behind him as he leaps onto the bed, rolling onto his back and purring loudly.

“But you are.” Merle chuckles, running his fingers through his hair and yanking open the curtains, letting in the daylight and checking out the window to see if his dad’s truck was still outside. When he notices it ain’t he lets out a sigh of relief and turns back to Daryl.

Instead of there being a mountain lion sprawled on his bed, there’s a boy instead, a little younger looking than himself and naked as a jaybird, wearing nothing but a smile. “How about now?” Daryl asks and he’s amazed when his daemon’s voice comes out of that oh so human looking mouth. “Now do I get clothes?”

“How in the hell did you do that?” He asks, double checking back out the window to make sure their dad wasn’t anywhere nearby. Heck he didn’t need someone seeing this, he was already weird enough without this being known about. “Switch back that ain’t right!” Merle yells, watching as Daryl checks himself over, wriggling his toes, running his fingers over his chest and checking out the new form.

“What?” Daryl smirks, cocky as ever and sometimes Merle hates that his daemon can be as annoying as he is. “I’m still an animal, technically.” Standing on the bed Daryl bounces a little on the mattress, grinning and spinning on the spot, showing himself off even if Merle knew his daemon inside out as much as he knew himself.

“Yeah but daemons have to be real animals, the furry kind, not…not human.” He scolds, knowing it’s technically a part of himself he was having to see exposed and naked, stretching and smiling about it so easily. Merle’s not exactly sure how he’s meant to feel about it and when he finds it a little easier to breathe with Daryl in this form he ignores it with a scowl.

Huffing loudly Daryl drags the sheets up around himself, draping them over his body in a mockery of clothing. “Some people have human daemons.” Daryl mutters, using his sudden dexterity with his fingers to ties knots around himself and biting on his lower lip as he takes a look over himself.

Merle can see he likes this form, he can feel how right it feels on him and how really the for he’s taken could be seen as his younger brother or something. They’ve got the same eyes, Daryl’s hair is sandy in colour and ruffled and though he looked a little younger than himself, he knew Daryl in this form would grow into a handsome man. But he can’t think like that, not when this was far too weird to keep around. “Yeah, people like Einstein, or King Arthur of the knights of the round table or special people in history, not people like us. Not people like me.” He sneers, heading over and yanking the sheets off of him, not caring if he can feel when he’s a bit too harsh and hurts Daryl.

“Why not?” His daemon whines, all pouting and looking at him with pleading eyes, knowing he usually gets his own way when he does that. But not today, this was far too important to give in to.

“Cause we ain’t nothing! We’re just us and people like us don’t get human daemons.” He grits his teeth at Daryl, swatting at his daemon’s sides and trying to make him switch back into anything else. “Fucks sake, cut it out and go back to normal.”

“Alright, alright, was just seeing what it felt like.” And with a shake of his head and body Daryl is a wolf, shaggy brown fur over his body and tail swishing back and forth a little as he jumps off the bed. “Besides, thought you wanted me to end up being something cool and different?” He huffs, pressing against Merle’s side and trotting beside him as they head outside with the rifle, ready to stalk down some food for him for breakfast.

“Yeah but there’s cool and different and then there’s fucking weird.” He mutters, reaching down to pet Daryl behind the ears like he knows he likes and not mentioning how suddenly he didn’t feel as comfortable as he had before.

The next few weeks are tense, Merle’s nervous their dad’s noticed Daryl’s shifting less and less, only using three forms and for longer amounts of time. They both know that means he’s close to settling and Merle doesn’t let him know there’s actually four different forms, but one is kept a secret between the two of them. Technically he’s too old to sleep with his daemon anymore, but Daryl is still unsure of himself and refuses to sleep on the floor or be too far away from Merle if he can help it. Each morning he wakes up to find Daryl in human form, curled up against him beneath the sheets and looking more and more comfortable each day.

It’s weird and awkward but Daryl does as he asks and shifts into either a wolf, a hawk or a mountain lion before they leave their room. Padding along beside him or with his talons in his shoulder and seeming more and more tense each day he has to do it. It’s getting harder to ignore how much better it feels when Daryl is human and Merle isn’t sure just how much longer they can keep this charade up before Daryl finally settles.

Each time they’re out in public he knows Daryl feels tense, his daemon feels awkward and uneasy, loping around alongside him, getting quieter around others and sticking to Merle’s side more and more. Merle knows everyone notices it and they all know he’s close to settling what they don’t know is how much it aches to have Daryl shift out of human form every day. The mornings when dad isn’t there are the best, Daryl stays human for a while longer, padding about the house in Merle’s clothes and enjoying being allowed to just be himself. They’re sitting and watching shit TV together, Daryl slumped into Merle’s side when he finally feels it, when the feeling of wholeness and being complete washes over him and Daryl sighs beside him. It’s done. They’re settled and Daryl’s a human for good now.

He can feel the upset run through Daryl and he wraps his arms around him lightly, tugging him into his lap for a hug and not caring about the rest of the world for a moment. “I’m sorry.” Daryl whimpers and Merle pets behind his ears like he knows he likes to get him to calm down. It’s not Daryl’s fault, it’s not anybodies fault; if this was who they were meant to be then that’s the way it was and no one was going to be able to change that.

“Don’t be sorry.” He croons, keeping Daryl close and running his fingers over his final form. “Ain’t no problem at all. Fuck everyone else, I don’t care what you are, we’re what we’re meant to be and screw ‘em all if they don’t like it.” Daryl nods against him, leaning into his touches and relaxing a little. Right now he’s just relieved that Daryl has settled and he hopes it’ll be enough for their dad to stop giving them such a hard time.

It’s not.

“What’re you a fucking faggot now? Ain’t bad enough your daemon is a boy, but now he’s a fucking human? Share a bed with that piece of shit do you? Like touching him all over huh?” The belt snap across his back, Zima’s teeth sink into Daryl’s shoulder and more scars and wounds begin to mark their bodies in identical positions. “You’re a fucking disgrace! Ain’t no son of mine gonna be a fucking faggot.”

The years pass in much the same way, every time they get yelled at and cursed out makes them harder, it toughens them up until Daryl kicks back at Zima, Merle starts punching their dead back and at the age of sixteen it all comes to a head. The years of hatred and anger ball into one drunken rage of his father’s, and all in one moment Merle knows he’s going to kill him if he stays here.

It starts as it usually does, his father calling them faggots, sinners, pieces of shit that didn’t deserve to be alive. Merle can take the words, he’s learnt to ignore them over the years, but when that fucking hyena grabs Daryl and begins dragging him across the room, he sees red. His father has him pinned down to the floor, bleeding from the belt, and unable to stop when Zima begins dragging Daryl away from him. It yanks at something inside of him, painful and harsh, making him yell and scream in agony as it feels he’s being ripped apart.

Across the room Daryl is scrabbling to get back to him, howling and crying in pain, clawing at the floor and yelling for him. It breaks Merle’s heart even more with every inch they’re yanked further apart, and he can’t stop when it all becomes too much. He lashes out, hits his dad, beats him as hard as he can and it’s not until Daryl is clinging to his back, sobbing into his neck and pleading for him to stop that he can see clearly again.

Merle doesn’t care to look at his bleeding father, instead he runs to his room, grabs everything he can possibly think of needing and taking Daryl’s hand. They’re sixteen but he doesn’t care, they can’t stay here any longer or he knows next time he won’t leave until his father has stopped breathing and that whining hyena is nothing more than dust. “Merle? Where’re we going?”

“I dunno.” He admits, throwing his bag in the car, shoving the rifle into Daryl’s arms and starting the truck. He doesn’t car if it’s his dad’s, he doesn’t give a shit if technically this if theft, they’re going and they ain’t coming back. “Just can’t stay here any more We gotta go.” Daryl nods but he can feel his daemon trembling against him, showing his own fear, the trepidation of it all coursing through him and leaving him completely unsure as to what the hell they’re going to do.

They end up crashing at friend’s houses, moving around throughout the years, earning places to stay through him selling some of his stash and though Daryl hates the way drugs make him feel, he doesn’t complain when Merle takes them more often. It helps them both get through it and the years blur into one big mass of just moving around and trying to ignore the looks they get. Daryl grows up alongside him, his daemon becoming a man alongside him and getting more stares as they met more and more people. It gets Merle on edge and it ain’t like Daryl is small enough to hide away in a pocket.

Merle is lying on the couch at one of his dealer’s places, slumped in on himself and petting behind Daryl’s ears as his daemon curls up on the floor beside him. “People keep on askin’ ‘bout you.” He murmurs, feeling Daryl hum in agreement from the floor. “Overheard ‘em chattin’ bout us before.” He muses to himself mainly, puffing on a cigarette and watching the ceiling as the day goes by.

“What were they sayin’?” Daryl stretches out beside him on the floor.

“Weren’t nothin’ good I tell you that. For a moment I thought Big Joey looked at you and saw dollar signs in his eyes.”

“What the fuck Merle? I ain’t worth nothin’ to nobody ‘cept you.” His daemon huffs, sitting up a little to glare at him over the edge of the couch and Merle prods at his nose before offering the cigarette to him. Technically daemons had no reason to eat or drink, having no real bodily functions, but Daryl liked to enjoy the more human things when he could and smoking with Merle was one of them.

“You kiddin’? We’re rare as fuck.” He chuckles, taking the cigarette back as Daryl blows smoke rings at him. “Not only are you same sex as me, but you’re friggin’ human too. Heck buncha scientists would probably pay a fortune to have us to test on or somethin’.”

Daryl squirms a little in discomfort and Merle can feel the unease within him. “You’re high as fuck and talking shit Merle.” Sure maybe he was a little high, he could see Daryl’s pupils were a little blown from it all, but he knew he was talking sense right now, even if his daemon was arguing back. “Nothing like that would ever happen. You said it before, we ain’t nothing special. Besides, what’re we gonna do about it? Can’t change it.”

“Could fake it.” He shrugs, watching Daryl and reaching out to run his fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down a little, they were only having a conversation anyways. “Been thinking about it in case we ever had to go someplace where people wouldn’t like us. Nothing big, just an idea is all. Could say you’re my baby brother or something.”

And for the first time in years Daryl fucking snarls, slumping back to the floor and turning his back on him, as if he could ever ignore his human. “Fucks sake Merle, and what’ll we say when people ask about our daemons?”

He’s impressed that he’d even thought that part through as well, clearly catching Daryl off guard. His daemon had such little faith in him sometimes. “We get a couple of those little tins people get for little daemons to keep ‘em safe. You know, say mine’s a spider or some shit and yours is a woodlouse so we gotta keep ‘em hidden and safe.”

Merle thinks it’s a good idea, but Daryl looks pissed, in fact despite the drugs running through their systems, Daryl actually looks offended. “I ain’t havin’ no fucking woodlouse! Besides it wouldn’t work Merle, as soon as other daemons saw me they’d know, you know they know automatically. Besides, can’t no one touch me without hurtin’ us.” Christ Daryl was being a pissy little bitch today, huffing and glaring like Merle was insulting him for what he was.

“Was just an idea is all I’m sayin’.” Reaching out he tries to tug Daryl back to him, his daemon pulling away and putting a small distance between them, just enough to tug on that link between them. It pulls on his chest and he sighs, stubbing out the cigarette and rolling onto his side to watch as Daryl sulked.

When he talks Daryl is quiet, a cross between sulking and upset, clearly not liking Merle’s idea. “You really think someone would try do that to us? What if they tried to separate us like he did?”

That pisses him off when Daryl talks about that day, the day they’d put behind them and moved on from. It still haunts their nightmares and he can remember the feeling of being torn apart from Daryl. So when he speaks he’s angry, voice harsh and making Daryl flinch a little. “Hey, you think I’d let that happen? Didn’t let him do it and I ain’t gonna let no one else separate us, so quit worrying. Was just thinking out loud is all.” Daryl nods, but doesn’t move from where he sits with his back to Merle. Sighing loudly he slips off the couch, kneeling behind his daemon and wrapping his arms around his waist. Really they were too old to be touching so much, but Daryl had always been a clingy daemon anyway. “Come here dumbass, ain’t no need for you to worry about a thing, I ain’t never gonna let nothin’ happen to you.”

Finally Daryl relaxes against him, leaning back into the touches and sighing a little when Merle strokes at the hair behind his ears. “I know Merle. Just don’t like talkin’ ‘bout stuff like that.” He shrugs and Merle nods in understanding as he holds his daemon close for a while.

No one ever tries to take Daryl away from him and whenever anyone gets close to looking at them funny he punches them before they can get a word in edgeways. Daryl gets tougher too, not backing down to the more dangerous daemons and even standing firm against a grizzly one time when he was pissed off enough. Merle teaches Daryl how to hunt, not that his daemon needed to eat, but because Daryl seemed to enjoy learning all the shit humans could do and other daemons couldn’t. When he begins to get attached to the crossbow Merle lets him keep it for himself, much preferring the rifle anyway and liking the idea of Daryl having a weapon of his own to go against the claws and teeth of other daemons.

They go through life and deal with the shit it throws at them, they try to sign up to the army but are turned away because of Daryl’s form, being told it was too costly to try and protect a daemon that was so vulnerable and couldn’t move as fast as others. That pisses them off and sets Daryl off into a fit for a few days when they try to find work elsewhere. Their life is full of getting crap from everyone else and dealing with it, they spend a year in jail in isolation when the other prisoners take advantage of Daryl’s lack of claws and teeth and set their daemons on him. Those are the worst few months of their lives and Merle swears to never put them in that position again, if only because he saw how bad Daryl got when he wasn’t free to roam about as much.

When the reports start coming in of an infection spreading around the country Merle couldn’t give any less of a shit. He and Daryl had never really got sick, never gotten an infection even when they’d had to fix their own wounds, so he wasn’t worried about no virus. It got worse and soon enough they couldn’t ignore it anymore. People were dying all around them, daemons turning to dust on the ground and leaving them on their own again. They defend themselves as best they can, Daryl clings to his crossbow tighter during the day and to Merle throughout the night even if they were too old for that shit. Right now with the world the way it was, he didn’t mind so much.

Daryl’s still wary around groups of people, sticking closer to Merle and not too keen on the company of other daemons that could take him down if they wanted to. Ever since that day with their dad, he’d been more of a loner, preferring to ignore any other daemons and stick with Merle than to socialise. When they head to Atlanta Daryl spends most of his time scrunched up on the seat beside him, gripping his bow tightly and wearing one of Merle’s shirts even after they’d been buying him his own for years. Merle doesn’t question it and just lets him do whatever he needs to in order to make this panic in their chests subside a little.

Atlanta is bombed and somehow, someway they end up joining a group much to Daryl’s chagrin. Merle comforts him with promises of leaving soon, and thoughts of raiding the camp and stealing what they could before moving on. But he knows they need numbers right now and at least the cop was a decent shot when it came to the walkers. Daryl really doesn’t like it at all and follows Merle around closely as if they’re kids again, barely half a step behind him at all times and not talking in front of anyone else if he could help it. Merle helps ease him as much as he can, letting him sit on the floor between his legs at the campfire and rubbing behind his ears to try and get him to relax.

It doesn’t work so well and Daryl is tense the entire time they’re around the group or anytime they’re not hunting really. He leaps at the chance for them to go to Atlanta and get away from the main group, begging Merle to let them and practically dragging him to the truck to go with the group. It goes about as badly as he’d expected and they come back with a few bruises, Daryl in a huff about having to return and another cop in tow.

There’s an attack on the quarry and when they lose people the group are worried about remaining in the same place, everyone debating for a long time about where they were going to go. Merle finds himself standing leaning against the hood of a car with a map out, looking over it with Shane, the new cop Rick and a couple of the other men. “Fort Benning is pretty damned far.” He chews over the option in his mind, listening as Shane tries to persuade them both.

“What about the CDC? If there’s anywhere that’s going to have some answers about this thing it’ll be them.” Merle has to agree it’s a good idea, besides if there was one place the country would want to continue to maintain power through anything it was somewhere like that. He can feel Daryl’s anxiety build at the thought of it and he just knows his daemon is chewing on that damned thumb again, so he refuses to look over to him for the moment. “They’re our best shot and finding if there’s an antidote, maybe we could help Jim?”

Personally Merle thinks it’s a lost cause, there’s no way that Jim is going to survive a lot longer, he’s bled out too much, running a fever either from infection or the virus and it won’t be long until they’ve got a walker in their midst. But he shrugs, ready to move to somewhere that may be closer to the city, but had a better bet of being safe, he’d just keep he an Daryl away from the dead man walking until it happened.

He feels a flare of panic wash over himself from Daryl and glances over to find his daemon glaring at the kiddie daemons beside him. The little girl’s fawn is watching him curiously whereas the boy’s still unsettled one is flickering and shifting, from a squirrel to a cat to a dog and back again in excitement. Daryl tries to ignore them as best he can but Merle knows other daemons find him interesting, barely anyone still alive had ever heard of a human daemon, let alone seen one. Daryl lashes out at them, kicking in their direction before curling back in on himself when the cops’ daemons descend on him, Rick’s alsation and Shane’s doberman snarling angrily at him for daring to even think of attacking the young ones.

Daryl stands up to his full height, striding forward into the dogs’ space and Merle can feel the mix of anger and upset running through his daemon’s mind. Normally he doesn’t mind a fight, but these people were currently helping them stay alive and Daryl didn’t stand a chance against two trained police daemons. “Hey!” He calls out, glaring at the daemons but talking to Rick and Shane beside him. “Leave him the hell alone, he didn’t mean nothing, just ain’t used to others is all.” It’s not that he feels the need to explain himself to them, but Daryl hadn’t said a word to any of their daemons and that was something others never understood.

The kids pet their daemons, Carl scooping up his now she was a hare and soothing her gently, still unable to stop his childish curiosity from making him glance at Daryl. “Sorry.” The kid mumbles to him with a shrug, moving closer to his father and his daemon. “He’s just real quiet is all, Calliope just wanted to say hi.”

“Well Daryl ain’t exactly the talking type.” Merle explains, not reacting when Daryl moves to stand behind him, his thumb being chewed on and spare hand knotting his fingers into Merle’s shirt. He’s still on edge and Merle wonders exactly when or if Daryl will ever feel at ease again around these people. “So you just make sure ya’ll leave him be.”

They nod and Merle’s glad when the kids leave them alone, they had no tact and asked anything they wanted, probably a variety of things that got Daryl doubting himself again and wondering if he was broken in some way. He hated when people did that, as if they had a right to know anything about them at all.

“Sorry about that.” Rick offers an apology and Merle can feel the way Daryl flinches against his back when the alsation gives a gentle lick to his side to back up her human. “They’re just curious and I have to admit so is everyone else.”

“They’re just kids man, don’t take it personal.” Shane adds, his doberman sitting at his side, watching Daryl with curious eyes and clearly wanting to investigate further. Merle’s glad that at least she seems to have some restraint, he doesn’t think Daryl would be able to cope with much more of this, honestly his pride was probably the only thing stopping Daryl from climbing into his arms.

“Yeah well people have been curious of us all our lives, you get sick of the looks and the questions after a while. There ain’t no difference between us and anyone else, ‘s just the way we are so don’t ever ask about it again.” He snarls, turning on his heel to go back to his tent and get packing for the CDC, Daryl right behind him and still on edge. As soon as they’re in the safety of their tent and hidden from prying eyes Daryl is pressed against his side and he can’t help but sigh. “They’re just kids you big sissy.”

Daryl shakes his head, wrapping his arms about Merle’s neck and just clinging there for a moment before catching his breath. “They’re going to take us to the CDC and give us to the scientists Merle.”

Rolling his eyes Merle wonders why the heck he ever mentioned such a thing all those years ago and shoves Daryl back when his daemon won’t let go. “I fucking told you that’s all bullshit, you’re getting worked up over nothing again and I’m getting sick of it. No one cares about us, all we are is what we’re meant to be and that ain’t interesting to nobody.” Moving about the place he begins shoving their things into bags, not caring about folding anything up and just wanting them to get a move on. The sooner they got to the CDC the sooner he could stop Daryl from being so pathetic. “Honestly you need to stop acting like this Daryl, people are gonna start thinking we’re pussies if you don’t pack it in. We’re different enough as it is, don’t need you ignoring other daemons when you could just be polite to them.”

His daemon hangs his head and sits on the floor of the tent, not moving to help at all with the packing and just grabbing up his crossbow and holding it to his chest tightly as Merle carries on.

“Don’t know why you keep making a big deal out of everything, it’s getting old. You ever thought that maybe if you just acted normal then things would be better?” He’s angry, Daryl’s angry and it’s never a good mix when you fight with your daemon, fighting with yourself was never the answer but honest to God sometimes he didn’t understand how Daryl could technically be a part of him and be so different. “Now get up, we’re going to the CDC, you’re going to be nice and civil to the other daemons and quit embarrassing me so much.”

Daryl sulks the entire fucking drive there, moping and glaring out the window with his arms wrapped about his crossbow. He doesn’t talk the entire time which is an achievement for him really and Merle finds himself missing his voice even if he pretends he doesn’t care. Maybe a part of him was just sick of being so different and longed to just be normal for once. People stared and always wanted to know why he was so special and he never had an answer for them, neither did Daryl.

It’s chaos after the loss of Jim and trying to get into the CDC, but once they’re inside the white walls and amount of space makes him feel out of place and he can feel Daryl shrink back a little, hunching his shoulders but not saying a word as they’re lead to the elevator. The walls lock them in beneath the ground, it reminds him of solitary in prison and though he can feel Daryl’s panic, his daemon doesn’t move to be any closer to him, clearly wanting to prove a point. It’s pathetic but he lets him do it, joining in with the rest of the group in the excitement over real food, hot water and the hope of survival.

Dr Jenner is nice enough, his squirrel monkey daemon chitters constantly in his ear but the man seems to be completely used to it and it nothing but accommodating to their needs. Securing himself a room for the night he feels better for showering and the bottle of whiskey he’s found helps to burn off the edge off the tension he still feels and helps ignore the way Daryl still isn’t speaking to him. He drinks the night away to himself, lying on his bunk and making the most of the space since Daryl had decided against sharing with him and was seated on the floor beside him. They’re drunk, comfortably fuzzy around the edges and it makes it easier to fall asleep that night.

He’s awoken by a bolt of pain through his system, pain worse than anything he’d ever imagined before and it burns through his entire body until he lets out a strangled yell at the feeling. Daryl is crying in pain but he can’t see him in the darkness and the jolts of utter agony going through him make it difficult to breathe let alone focus. “Daryl!” His daemon is howling, screaming in pain and calling for him in return and even though he can’t see he can hear the chittering of that fucking monkey and suddenly he knows what’s happening. “Get the fuck off him you bastard!”

Fingers dig into his side, no into Daryl’s side and it burns, makes him feel like he’s on fire and freezing a the same time and he’s off the bed, struggling to try and find Jenner in the dark and punch him for daring to do such a thing. There are footsteps outside the door and within moments there’s light spilling into the room from the hallway, Rick, Shane and the others running in and screaming at what they see.

Jenner had Daryl by the throat, a needle in his free hand and though Daryl is struggling and crying they’re in too much pain to get free by themselves. Rick and Shane have their weapons drawn and there’s more yelling but honestly Merle feels like he’s going to pass out before all of this is through. Fingers tighten their grip, Daryl gives a frightened whimper, daemons are snarling, that monkey is chittering still and in a moment he can breathe again.

Daryl scrambles across the floor to him, sobbing and trying to bury himself into his chest, Merle squeezes him tightly, uncaring if Daryl is too big to fit in his lap anymore, right now he needs to be as close to his daemon as possible. He knows he’s crying too, silent tears after being violated so deeply and Daryl can’t stop shaking in his grip. Around them is chaos but right now all he can focus on is Daryl, on his daemon shaking and apologising to him for being stupid, for ignoring him and fuck he doesn’t care because at least Daryl is still here and still joined to him.

“Don’t you see it? He’s the key!” Jenner laughs, that monkey squeaks in agreement and Merle can hear when Rick’s daemon grabs her in her jaws to hush her and keep her and her human under control. “He’s the answer we’ve been looking for! It’s all in his blood, it’s all there in the results I got. We’ve been experimenting for so long to find the answer and he comes walking right into my arms.”

Merle doesn’t know what the fuck the scientist is talking about, and right now he doesn’t care, all he knows is that the man is sick, sick enough to touch someone’s daemon and not let go. Hushing Daryl still he presses them together, feeling their heartbeats thud in time, terrified and overwhelmed at the pain they’d never wanted to experience and how it felt worse than when their father tried to separate them.

“His blood is the answer, he’s the antidote don’t you see? It’s all there in his daemon, we can save the world!”

Daryl hiccups in his arms, nuzzling closer and Merle buries his fingers into his hair, stroking behind his ears and trying desperately to ignore the terrifying words and calm his daemon and himself down. They weren’t nothing special, they never had been; Jenner was just crazy.

They were just the way they were meant to be; that was all.


End file.
